


be still my foolish heart

by danceanthems



Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: F/M, because pain is coming and they deserve better, missing moment from 3x06, one thousand percent fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-09 11:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18637114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceanthems/pseuds/danceanthems
Summary: edoardo incanti:what if i told you i'm already at your house?eleonora sava:i'd tell you that i'm still in my pajamas and i have to be at eva's in an houredoardo incanti:i'll drive youmissing moment from 3x06: edoardo drives eleonora to eva's, and they take a quick detour.





	be still my foolish heart

**Author's Note:**

> the hiatus may almost be over but Pain™ is approaching. i just want my children to be happy! so this is completely self-indulgent, unnecessarily long, plotless fluff, because they deserve it.

**rocco martucci:** dinner at mine  
**rocco martucci:** 6 pm  
**fede canegallo:** then?  
**chicco rodi:** 🍻🍻🍻  
**chicco rodi:** at nathan’s yeah?  
**fede canegallo:** yaaaaa  
**rocco martucci:** come over now for fifa 😎  
**fede canegallo:** your desire to continually be embarrassed by me is adorable  
**rocco martucci:** i always beat you  
**chicco rodi:** in your dreams maybe baby  
**edoardo incanti:** busy right now  
**edoardo incanti:** i’ll be there later  
**chicco rodi:** 🍻  
**fede canegallo:** oh he’s BUSY right now  
**rocco martucci:** packing tape?  
**fede canegallo:** “””””BUSY”””””  
**chicco rodi:** tell miss sava we say hello  
**edoardo incanti:** no  
**chicco rodi:** he’s embarrassed of us :/  
**rocco martucci:** that’s probably fair  
**fede canegallo:** last night he left us just to drive her home  
**chicco rodi:** i thought he only did stupid nice things for US :(  
**chicco rodi:** now i have to share my edo with some girl?!  
**edoardo incanti:** with my girlfriend, assholes  
**rocco martucci:** “she’s not just some girl” in 5 4 3 2 1  
**rocco martucci:** ahahahahahahahahahahahaha  
**fede canegallo:** never slander packing tape in this house  
**chicco rodi:** aw my boy is in LOVE  
**edoardo incanti:** i changed my mind, i’m not coming tonight either  
**chicco rodi:** see you later loverboy ❤️  
  
  
Edoardo looks up from his phone when the backdoor of his car opens, a tote bag thrown in the backseat before the door is quickly slammed shut. Then Ele is climbing into his car, her face bare of makeup and wearing just jeans and a t-shirt. He does his best to suppress his more embarrassing corny thoughts about how pretty she is and instead just smiles at her, leaning forward to wind his fingers in her still-damp hair and pull her into a kiss. She smells like something sweet and floral, and is smiling against his lips, her hand finding his neck.  
  
It’s only been a week, so Edoardo tells himself it’s okay to still be in awe that he can kiss her lips, her cheek, her neck and pull back and see her pretty, flushed face smiling back at him. Maybe one day his chest will stop feeling like it’s tight with emotion every single time she so much as smiles at him or laughs at something he says or reaches for him first. But then, maybe he doesn’t want it to get used to any of this, anyway.  
  
Ele breaks the kiss first, looks him dead in the eyes and says, “I want a cookie.”  
  
Edoardo laughs. “I’m starting to think you’re in this relationship for one thing only.”  
  
“Mm, well.”  
  
He reaches past her into the backseat to grab the tin of cookies his grandmother had left with him this afternoon. When Ele tries to take it from him, he hugs it to his chest and tsks at her. “First, you have to pay the cookie tax.”  
  
Ele pouts at him, which is probably the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and says, “I thought I just did.”  
  
“It’s a very high tax,” he murmurs gravely as he leans in to capture Ele’s bottom lip between his. She sighs into his mouth, one hand brushing against his cheek before sinking into his hair, her thumb skating along the shell of his ear. Edoardo could be happy here for hours, kissing her slowly, her tongue tentatively brushing against his, the sound of very light rain surrounding them. Like this, his car feels cut off from the rest of the world, his existence narrowed to Ele and how she feels against him and the scent of her and the feel of her hair between his fingers and one of her hands splaying over his shoulder, down his chest—  
  
Fast as lightning, she takes advantage of this insane effect she has on him and snatches the cookie tin from his relaxed grip, pulling away from him with a giggle and retreating back into the passenger seat. Edoardo groans and scrubs a hand over his face, leaning his head back to just watch her as she opens the tin and wiggles her fingers contemplatively. “You’re a tease,” he says, whining a little, but she just smiles at him around a bite of cookie.  
  
His idiot friends might not be wrong. Edoardo thinks he might be in love with this girl. He also thinks that she might run from the car without another word if he told her that now, when she only managed to admit that she liked him a week ago.  
  
He can wait. He’s waited, already.  
  
And anyway, he can try to tell her in not so many words.  
  
“My grandma wants to meet you,” Edoardo says, reaching out to cover Ele’s knee with his hand, rubbing his thumb over the seam of her jeans. She chokes on the cookie she was apparently swallowing and Edo does his best not to laugh at her as she coughs, color rising in her cheeks, clearly flustered.  
  
“You told your grandma about me?” she asks weakly, once she can breathe again. Edoardo raises his eyebrow, and shrugs.  
  
“She thinks you’re really pretty,” he replies, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. His thumb lingers on her cheek.  
  
“You showed her a _picture_ of me?” Ele’s voice is rising in pitch, and her green eyes look a little frantic. Edoardo can’t help but laugh at her.  
  
“Well, I’m her favorite grandchild, and she has to make sure you’re good enough for me,” he teases. She’s still blushing prettily. Her cheek is warm beneath his hand. “I assured her that you’re way too good for me.”  
  
Ele looks down at her lap, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Her fingers fiddle with the cookie tin. “Are you close to her?” she asks, looking back up at him.  
  
Edoardo drops his hand so that it’s covering hers and nods. “She’s my mom’s mom,” he says, his throat tightening a little, the way it still sometimes does when he thinks of his mom. Ele’s eyes are so, so green, and watching him closely. He looks down. “She… after my mom died, my dad wasn’t doing too great, so she came over a lot. To watch me.”  
  
Ele flips her hand over in her lap and intertwines their fingers, ducking her head to catch his gaze. “I’d love to meet her,” she says quietly.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.” She squeezes his hand. “I should probably introduce you to Filo at some point, too…”  
  
“Have you told him about us?”  
  
Ele wrinkles her nose. “No, but… he knew we went on a date… and he knows I slept at your place that time. So he’s probably figured it out.”  
  
“Whenever you want, I’m happy to meet him,” Edoardo says. He smiles mischievously. “I’m sure he has the best embarrassing Eleonora stories, anyway—”  
  
Ele narrows her eyes. “Never mind, you can never meet him.”  
  
“Aw, but Ele—” Edoardo whines, and goes to tickle her. Ele laughs and squirms.  
  
“No, it’s not happening.” She shoves his hands away, still smiling. “Aren’t you supposed to be driving me?”  
  
Edoardo presses one more messy kiss to her cheek before turning the key in the ignition. Grabbing his phone, he opens Spotify and hands it to Ele before switching the car into drive. She fiddles with it for a little while before guitar and claps begin filtering through the speakers.  
  
_I came in from the outside, burnt out from the joy ride…_  
  
“Is this what they make you listen to in England?” Edoardo asks, glancing over at Ele. She scoffs.  
  
“Hozier is Irish.”  
  
“Ah, whatever.” He taps his fingers along with the beat on the steering wheel, doing his best to keep his eyes on the road and not stare at the girl in his passenger seat. The months that she spent in England, which had felt endless at the time, feel like ages ago now, fading from his rearview mirror. Months of texting her, hoping for some—any—response, of ignoring his friend’s jokes about his newly-minted celibate status, of drinking too much at parties to quell the feeling that he was pathetic for waiting around for a girl who would probably never give him the time of day—a feeling he couldn’t say he was well-acquainted with.  
  
Now, six months later, that girl is in his car, humming along to Hozier, whoever that is, eating a second cookie and sneaking glances at him like she’s still unsure if it’s allowed. Minutes pass before Edoardo tightens his fingers on the steering wheel and lets out a breath. “Can I ask you something?”  
  
Ele shrugs, leaning back to rest her head on the headrest.  
  
“Were you… did you date anyone while you were in England?” Edoardo brakes for a red light and drops his hands from the steering wheel, looking at Ele and finding her with an eyebrow raised, smirking a little. He feels his cheeks heat up, just a little bit. It’s a foreign feeling.  
  
“I went on a few dates,” she replies slowly, casually.  
  
Edoardo waits a beat before prompting her, “And?”  
  
She shrugs. “And nothing. They were fine.”  
  
“ _Fine_?”  
  
“Well, what do you want me to say?!” she laughs, gesturing towards the road. “It’s green, by the way.”  
  
He puts his foot to the gas. “I don’t know, don’t people go study abroad just to get wasted and hook up with foreigners?”  
  
“I didn’t say I didn’t hook up with anyone,” Ele replies. His heart clenches in his chest, even though he knows it has no right to. When he looks over, she’s staring out the window so he can’t see her face. “But I was kind of distracted.”  
  
“Distracted by…”  
  
“By classes, by practicing my English, by my brother visiting… by this guy from home texting me _every single day without fail_.”  
  
Edoardo laughs. “Ah, so I was distracting?”  
  
“Yeah, well, coming up with a new creative way to say _leave me alone_ every day was very taxing.”  
  
They’re a couple blocks from Eva’s place now, so Edoardo pulls the car into a parking spot, figuring that Ele wouldn’t appreciate Eva seeing them together yet. He turns off the car and the music cuts out, the windshield wipers going still, the only sound the light rain on the roof of the car.  
  
“You could’ve blocked my number,” Edoardo says, the same thing he told himself after every rejection, foolishly hopeful that there was some reason she always responded.  
  
“I could have,” Ele agrees. She’s looking at him steadily, her eyes unreadable. “But I didn’t.” The atmosphere in the car feels heavy, suddenly. There’s a thousand things Edoardo wants to say to her, wants to ask her, and they all swell up in that moment, crowding the tip of his tongue. Unable to choose what to say, he just looks at her.  
  
Ele looks away first, pulling out her phone. “There’s still twenty minutes before I told Eva I’d be here,” she says. “Want to go to for a walk?” She gestures across the street. It looks like there’s a little park.  
  
Unable to resist touching her now that he knows it’s allowed, Edoardo lays an arm across the back of her seat, hand playing with her hair. “Or we could get in the backseat and fool around a little,” he whispers to her, half-joking. Her laugh, bright and clear, makes him feel warm. She kisses him softly once, twice, three times, before opening her door and getting out of the car.  
  
It’s only raining softly, but Edoardo takes off his hoodie and gives it to Ele as they cross the street, pulling up the hood so it covers her hair. The sleeves fall past her hands, too big on her small frame. Still, she doesn’t seem to mind, smiling at him from under where the hood dips in front of her eyes, and rolling up the sleeves so she can hold his hand.  
  
Edoardo had imagined a lot of things when he spent all those months alone, longing for her. Dancing with her at a party, his hands on her waist and her eyes only on him. Taking her out, to the movies, to a restaurant, to a museum, his hand curled around her shoulders to ensure everyone watching knew that she was his. Fighting with her, her eyes vivid and voices raised, cheeks pink with passion. Kissing her, touching her, making her come apart only with his hands.  
  
Somehow, his stupid brain had never conjured up a simple walk in the park, hand-in-hand. He’d never thought he’d be smitten enough to go buy her favorite gelato at the first mention of it. Never imagined her hushed voice telling him about her family in the dark, or his thumbs brushing her tears away. Really, he had had no idea what was hiding underneath the lipstick and the confident gaze, all the insecurities and shyness that he’d only just started to get to know. He hadn’t thought it was possible to like her _more_ than he did back then, but now, watching her face light up at the sight of a swing set, he knows that was foolish.  
  
“Come on,” Ele says, and he lets her drag him towards the swings, watching as she immediately sits down and starts to swing. He sits on the swing next to her and thinks, not for the first time, that he’s the luckiest fucking man alive.  
  
His idiot friends are definitely right. He’s so far gone that he can’t even be embarrassed about it.  
  
“What about you?” she asks, and Edoardo is confused for a moment, thinking he was so lost in his thoughts that he missed something. But she continues, “Tell me about all the girls you were with while I was gone.”  
  
Edoardo rolls his eyes. “There’s nothing to tell.”  
  
“Yeah _right_ ,” Ele says. She doesn’t even look mad, still swinging next to him. Just incredulous. “You’re telling me you weren’t with anyone the whole time I—”  
  
“My friends started calling me Father Edoardo after a while.” Edoardo swings a little, laughs, and looks at her. “It’s sad, I know.”  
  
She’s not swinging anymore. “It’s not sad. I just…”  
  
He raises an eyebrow, prompting her to continue.  
  
“I guess I thought…” Ele blushes, and his heart feels like it’s ballooning in size. “I just didn’t realize you really liked me that much.”  
  
Edoardo can’t help but laugh at that. “No, I just texted you a running list of places I wanted to take you for months as a joke.”  
  
She shrugs, kicking at the dirt and avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know, I thought it was… a challenge, you know? Remember, when you told me every time I said no, you wanted to go out with me more? I figured you’d just move on after a while.”  
  
It’s only a second that he hesitates before standing and moving closer to her, grabbing the links of her swing and pushing back, back, until their gazes are at the same level. She takes a quick breath and he smiles a little, grateful, as always, for the reminder that she’s here, too. That he has an effect on her, too. That none of this is just him, anymore.  
  
“When you first dragged me in front of everyone, the boys were all laughing afterwards about how accurate it was,” he says quietly, eyes roaming her face. “It was like you instantly recognized me, not just the bullshit that people assume about me.”  
  
Ele’s fingers trail down the chain of her swing until her hand covers his. “Not really, though,” she says, cocking her head to the side and smiling. “You’re not all bad.”  
  
“I know, but I, like, wanted to prove to you that I wasn’t that bad.” Edoardo shrugs and swings her just a little bit, away from him and back into him. “I wanted you to see my good parts, and like them. Like me.”  
  
He leans forward, pressing his face into her neck, breathing in the scent of her hair and the rain. “Plus, you’re so fucking gorgeous,” he says, an echo of what he told her a year ago. He can feel her laugh. “Your eyes drive me crazy.”  
  
Ele winds her fingers in his curls and pulls his head up, kissing him hard. Edoardo has to stop himself from responding with too much gusto, semi-cognizant of the fact that they’re in public and there’s other people around, including families who might not want to watch two horny teenagers making out on a Saturday afternoon. He pulls back first, kissing Ele’s nose and her jaw and her ear. He’s noticed that she gets this dazed look sometimes after they've kissed, her eyes unfocused and lips slick. It’s too fucking much for him.  
  
She shakes herself out of it like a puppy shaking off water, which makes him smirk. The rain is starting to fall more steadily. Pushing herself off of the swing, Ele reaches out and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her chin on his chest.  
  
“I didn’t really like you yet when I was in England,” she says quietly. Edoardo wraps his arms around her shoulders. She looks up, her eyes meeting his. “But when I got back, and you kept messaging me, like… _I saw you with your friends outside, you have the cutest laugh_. Or _I read this article about the refugee crisis, you might find it interesting_ , and _I watched the sunset at the park today, I want to bring you here_.” She worries her lip between her teeth. The dazed look is back in her eyes. “Nobody’s ever really… noticed me before, or paid attention to me that much.” She shrugs a little. “I liked it, even though I didn’t want to admit it.”  
  
Edoardo brushes his fingers along her cheekbone and smiles. “My charms are irresistable,” he whispers, ghosting a kiss across her lips.  
  
She rolls her eyes and squeezes him around the waist, as if trying to make it hurt. “Not charms. You’re just a nice boy, Edoardo Incanti,” she says. “To me, at least.”  
  
“Always to you,” he says, hugging her close. She tucks her head under his chin and Edoardo thinks that he could just do this—touching, talking, standing in the rain—for hours, so long as it’s with her. No wonder his friends make fun of him for being so cheesy.  
  
“Need to go,” Ele says against his chest, sighing and pulling away. “Eva’s expecting me.”  
  
Edoardo keeps his arm around her shoulders as they walk back to the car. “What are you two doing?”  
  
“Eva’s decided she wants to watch the last season of Game of Thrones. Which means I have one night to teach her five books and seven TV seasons worth of information before it starts tomorrow.”  
  
“But Ele, I love Game of Thrones,” he whines, tugging on the hood covering her hair. “We could watch it together.”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Ele says, laughing. “Game of Thrones is not makeout television!”  
  
Edoardo scoffs. “Who says we’d be making out? I’m just as invested in the fate of the Stark family as you are, thank you very much—”  
  
“You’re saying if I came to your place and got in your bed, you’d let me watch undisturbed, without you touching me?”  
  
He pretends to consider for a moment. “I could promise to let you watch over fifty percent of the episode undisturbed,” he says finally, smirking down at her and leaning in for a kiss.  
  
“Nope, not good enough,” Ele says, pushing his face away with a laugh. “One hundred percent attention required.”  
  
Edoardo whines a little more as they walk back to the car, and pouts when Ele says she has to go. “I’ll miss you,” he says, pressing her up against the side of his car and kissing her cheek. She laughs again. He loves her laugh, and how easy it’s becoming for him to hear it.  
  
“I’ll see you on Monday,” she says quietly, pressing her lips to his quickly and then ducking under his arm before he can keep her any longer. He watches her go, still wearing his hoodie, until she rounds the corner and waves once before disappearing.  
  
—  
  
Fede is, predictably, kicking Rocco’s ass in FIFA when Edoardo finally arrives, dropping into a chair and shaking the rain out of his curls.  
  
“If it isn’t Chauffeur Incanti,” Chicco proclaims loudly as he enters the room, six beers precariously held in his arms. “Back from escorting Eleonora Sava across the city of Rome, wherever she so pleases—”  
  
“Shut up,” Edo grumbles, unable to keep the smile off of his face. Chicco hands him a beer and ruffles his hair.  
  
“You’re adorable, Edo.”  
  
“Invite her over to play FIFA sometime,” Fede says without looking up from the TV. Edo scoffs.  
  
“Yeah, right.”  
  
“She’d beat Rocco, at least,” Chicco says, and Rocco pauses the game to grab a pillow and smack Chicco with it. In the ensuing chaos, Edoardo pulls out his phone.  
  
**edoardo incanti:** the boys want you to play fifa with us  
**eleonora sava:** they shouldn’t  
**eleonora sava:** i’m really good  
**edoardo incanti:** oh yeah?  
**eleonora sava:** 😎  
**eleonora sava:** maybe once i tell the girls  
**edoardo incanti:** come watch game of thrones at mine tomorrow  
**eleonora sava:** NO  
**edoardo incanti:** 😔  
**eleonora sava:** i’ve been waiting almost 2 years, i must pay attention  
**edoardo incanti:** and i distract you?  
**eleonora sava:** and you distract me  
**edoardo incanti:** 😊  
**edoardo incanti:** i promise to let you watch 65%  
**eleonora sava:** no  
**edoardo incanti:** 80%?  
**eleonora sava:** …  
**eleonora sava:** fine  
**edoardo incanti:** !!!  
**edoardo incanti:** see you tomorrow?  
**eleonora sava:** see you tomorrow 😊


End file.
